Love on the periphery
by Analytical-Ghost
Summary: A simple murder on a marine base leads to an intense investigation, where Ziva and Tony come close, or indeed actually do, discover their feeling towards each other.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1  
NCIS**

Marine Irvin Miller was a High School drop out. Not possessing an overabundance of brains, or an ability to understand very much of anything that was said to him, it wasn't soon before he became involved in drug trafficking and car theft. However, due to his lack of brains it wasn't soon before he was caught either. When he was charged he was given two choices, go to jail for twelve years or do service in the United States Marine Corps for six years. He chose the latter, unwittingly thinking that it was the easier option. However this was not what he was thinking now, as he slumped forward into the bonnet of a Humvee, blood spurting in a crimson ribbon from his severed Jugular. He fell back, barely registered the cold, hard pebbles digging into his back. Darkness descended over his eyes, and the last thought that Marine Irvin Miller ever had was; why did I want drugs so bad...

The daughter of a career US Marine Colonel, Lieutenant Jessica Ashenhurst made her way down the perfect rows of Humvee's in the motor pool. She often admired the mathematical precision of the neatly rowed vehicles. However, in spite of her military background, nothing could have prepared her for this. She saw it, as clear as the Humvee beside her, a glint of metal and a desert yellow Humvee being covered in red. Shocked, horrified she froze. What should she do, should she run? Should she investigate? Should she open fire with her side arm? Should she radio in for help? All of these thoughts flashed through her head in 0.42 seconds, until her proud warrior spirit shouted an order at her, FORWARD! A cold fury settled over her, how dare a nobody sneak in to a US base and go about murdering its personnel with a cold, calculated and horrifying efficiency. Grabbing her side arm from its holster and radioing her position and what she had seen to every person on the base with a radio, she advanced. She half jogged to the murder scene with her weapon ready, only to see what looked like a black silhouette escaping into the shadows of a servicing area, enraged she fired off three rounds in the hope of wounding the murderer but it was too late, he had escaped into the abyss of nothingness. She kneeled to the Marines side, hoping to offer some words of comfort or at least let him see her perfect face, with its ice white eyes and blonde hair before he passed to the other side. But hazelnut eyes stared past her, unseeing at the sky.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The lift was cool and quiet. The only indication that it was in transit was the slow ticking of the numbers that indicated which floor you were on. It was the way Ziva David liked it, and she smiled smugly to herself. There was a gentle tone that indicated she had arrived at the requested floor. The doors rolled gently back and all trace of Ziva's smile faded. She walked out with a catlike grace, her bag slung over her left shoulder. She entered the teams' squad room, and gracefully descended to her perch at her desk. As usual the other team members hadn't arrived. She still hadn't made the changeover from Israeli work hours to American. After all this time! She admonished herself, but still, there was this aspect of the morning that she enjoyed. Sighing she fired up her computer and waited for its initialization program to finish. Narrowing her eyes at its slowness she thought; if Agent McGee had messed up her filing system again with his obsessive de-fragging, she would ensure he regretted it.

Five minutes later she was idly tapping her fingers against the desk. Frustrated, she sighed, why did NCIS have to be so different? Why didn't the working day start at 6:30? It was... inefficient Ziva mused. She much preferred the work hours she was used to, up at 5:30, at work by 6:30, beginning an investigation by 6:35. No fuss. But things had not calmed down at home. There were still complications. And besides there was still something she wanted, needed, even. She often found it strange, that she could feel this way about _him_. It was dangerous; it was a weakness, something that could be used against her. Something her carefully concealed emotions screamed at her to get, and yet, it was the last thing she could afford. This is how it would always be, an impasse. He would never know what she felt towards him; her emotions were perfectly concealed against the world, only she would decide what she would broadcast and what she would keep to herself. She had trained herself so that her breath never caught when she saw _him_. It used to, and to Ziva, that felt as if she had set a flash-bang grenade off, but thankfully no one seemed to notice.

She would spend this one, perfect hour every day just thinking about _him_. Imagining all the other possibilities, how their lives could end up, how it could all be so perfect. Ziva knew it was a vain gesture, but what else could she afford? She dreamt of her being able to show her potent, if carefully concealed emotions to _him_, and he could love her entirely...

'Hey Ziva', Agent McGee greeted her. As usual she was first in, and as usual she had her feet up on the desk a pencil in her mouth, and was staring dreamily up at the ceiling. And as usual as soon as he greeted her, she corrected her posture, placed her pencil on her desk and replied. It was as if a careful, measured mask that held just enough emotion to be warm and friendly, but still automated enough to make her appear machine like, would be summoned up from the depths of her lethal training. Frankly, it creeped McGee out. It would descend on her perfect features and erase any trace of whatever she had been previously thinking about.

Ziva replied to McGee's incessant greeting. Now now, she told herself, be diplomatic, he's only trying to be friendly and supportive. But she still couldn't help feeling irritated. Especially because she was thinking of _him_.

Agent DiNozzo and the boss walked in simultaneously. Agent DiNozzo walked to his desk, whistling a tune. Probably a theme tune to some movie Ziva thought, while the boss walked straight through the squad room and without even tilting those penetrating ice blue wolf eyes stated 'we've got a murder on a marine base, grab your gear and be at the motor pool in five'. He then disappeared up the stairs to the Multiple Threat Assessment Centre, his efficient payload delivered. The team immediately snapped into action. Taking standard issue weapons out of their drawers and attaching their badges to their belts. In addition to this gear each team member took a rucksack with them, containing emergency food and water rations, as well as spare ammunition, sterile rubber gloves, first aid kits, spare memory cards for their camera's and other support material relevant to a crime scene investigation and rapid deployment to the field. As one they arrived at the lift and descended to the motor pool, where they would undoubtedly get reacquainted with their vehicle and meet Ducky and his medical assistant alongside their prized medical vehicle.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs inhaled the oily, fumy scent of the motor pool; the strange, tangy smell bringing back memories of a past life. Pushing them to one side he focused on what the Lieutenant was telling him. 'I saw the silhouette of a man sir, as the marine was killed, he wore dark clothes and used a knife to severe the Jugular sir.' 'Could you tell what type of knife and how big it was lieutenant?' 'Not the type sir, the distance was too great, but the blade length appeared to be 4.5 inches long sir.' 'Ok' waving the lieutenant in the direction of Ziva, Gibbs pressed forward to the body.

It was a clean cut, from the left to right, suggesting that the murderer was right handed. Great, Gibbs thought, that's ten percent of the total world population factored out. The marines Under Body Armour shirt was saturated with a crimson stain. Efficient and cowardly Gibbs thought. Efficient in the fact that the cut drained the victim of the maximum blood possible, in the shortest period of time. Cowardly because the attacker struck from behind.

Agent Anthony DiNozzo, or Tony to his friends and colleagues had seen plenty of lives gone wrong in his life. He'd seen teenage girls obsessed with drugs, idiot teenage gang wars, with boys of only fifteen shooting each other with frightening regularity. But nothing could be compared to this. It's morbid efficiency. The total lethality of it, and the knowledge that the victim had no clue as to what hit him. Blood smothered the scene with its coppery taste. He carefully took several photos of the body. Documenting it from every conceivable angle. His memory card full, he replaced his camera in his bag and took out his sketchbook. 'Not now Duck, in a minute' he told the lost looking medical examiner. Poor guy, he must feel lost with nothing to do. Still, he'll get his turn soon enough and then I'm outta here for one delicious deluxe latte. He sighed at the thought and paused in his work. 'DiNozzo!' The boss hurled at him. Mentally cursing that mans attention to his team, DiNozzo started sketching double time.

Ziva stole a calm, disdainful glance at _him. _Slouch, she thought disgustedly. In the middle of a serious investigation into a man's death and he was daydreaming. How insensitive could he be? She was angry with him; anger was a much more effective emotion to feel about him. Of course she would always look warm and friendly on the outside, but on the inside she would cover herself in a film of anger that completely choked out the other emotion. The other caring, passionate, loving side of her, that no one on this side of the globe had ever seen. If she was honest with herself very few people at home had seen it either, and she prayed silently that she could keep it this way.

Uncomplicated.

Ducky had finally secured his body from the prying eyes of the world, and quickly set about doing a preliminary diagnosis of the body. He placed the liver probe into the luke warm flesh, so that he could estimate the time of death of this poor fellow. Sighing at another life lost, he stood up, dusted his coat off and signalled his medical student. 'Well, time to move him Mr. Palmer.' Working cohesively and efficiently, they placed the body in its body bag, strapped it into the gurney and stowed it in their vehicle. Slamming the rear access door shut, Dr. Mallard walked to the passenger door and opened the silent and well lubricated door. It shut gently behind him and Mr. Palmer turned the key to the ignition. 'Do you think it will take long Doctor?' Mr. Palmer asked. 'Only time will tell my lad, time will tell,' he replied. His old careworn eyes raked the horizon as he thought about the young man's body, he had not two feet from his head.


End file.
